Mother Nature and I are not in sync. A dozen worker bees are due here on Saturday and there's a lot of outside work to be done. The last few days have been perfect with warm sun and cool breeze. This morning there is a thick overcast and a cold wind. Snow is predicted for tonight, possibly as low as two-thousand feet (I'm at twenty-four hundred). Ain't that just hunky-dory? Dave assures me that his crew from the Freed Spirits Motorcycle Club "won't melt," and will be here rain or shine. Deb, Craig, and Clay are as reliable as they come. It just seems so unkind to ask for help and then offer less than optimum working conditions. Just more proof that I'm not in charge.
Like the cats, I went around in the house this morning, looking out windows for a break in the gloom overhead. Of course there wasn't one, but what I did see was beautiful yard art. Weather like this brings the deer down from higher elevations. Standing in the back yard, posing like a bronze statue, was a gorgeous, stately three-point(!) buck watching over his harem of does as they grazed by the front pasture. I was happy to see that this handsome boy had survived the recent hunting season. I may not be able to change the weather, but I can give these lovely creatures shelter in my woods.
If we do get snow and it is enough to cover the satellite dish and stick, I will lose contact with the Internet. The timing of my journal entries may become erratic. I'm not in charge.